The Grrrl

"There it is, thank god," Danny says when he finally spots the car. It's on the side of the road where they had left it, but after chasing their suspect through the forest and the inevitable shootout, the walk back was long and tiring.

He could have accepted Chin's offer of a ride on his motorbike, but it was dark and Danny valued his life.

"Hey, hey," he says when he realizes Steve is heading for the driver's side. "No way. Give me the keys."

"You could have a concussion without being knocked out, you do know that, don't you? But of course, since you refused medical care--"

Steve makes a face at him. It's almost aneurysm face, but not quite. "Danny, it doesn't even hurt."

Danny folds his arms across his chest and stares at Steve. "Really? What, you have a titanium skull?"

"Much. It doesn't hurt much, okay?"

But Steve's shoulders sag, and Danny knows he's won. They're both tired, but Steve's the one who got cracked in the head with a rock. Danny had every intention of winning this one. "Give it."

He holds his hand out again and Steve drops the keys into his palm.

"Thank you," Danny says. "Now wait a minute. Let me just take a look." He drops the keys on the roof of the car, reaches up and takes Steve's head in his hands. Steve looks exasperated but he doesn't pull away, so Danny rises up on tip-toe and angles Steve's head so his face catches the light from the streetlight. "Stop blinking for a sec, okay?"

He ignores Steve's put-upon sigh and checks Steve's pupils. It's not an easy task in the dim light and Steve's ridiculously long eyelashes keep getting in the way. Danny's hand ends up in Steve's hair when he leans closer, he feels Steve's breath on his cheek.

"Your pupils still look normal," Danny says, "but that's going to leave a bruise." He brushes his fingers over the scraped skin on Steve's forehead. "We'll go home and get some ice on it, all right?"

Danny realizes that he's fussing over Steve pretty much the same way he fusses over Gracie and he's frighteningly close to kissing it to make it better. But Steve just says "Okay," with a faint smile. "Sounds good."

Danny pulls his hands away and nods. "Get in the car," he says with a pat to Steve's back.

He checks his pockets, looking for the keys, and it takes him a moment to remember he had dropped them on the roof of the car. He grabs them, opens the door, and slides into the car only to fall back against the seat with a surprised grunt.

Steve watches, lips curving into a grin.

"Every time I get in the damn car," Danny says, as he reaches for the seat position adjustment lever. "Must you drive with the seat pushed back so far? My feet can't even touch the pedals." He wiggles his feet to demonstrate.

"Maybe you could use a booster seat," Steve suggests.

Danny holds up a finger. "Don't even go there." He pulls on the lever and tries to move the seat up, but something is not right, the lever isn't engaging. He tries again, pushing the seat back this time, but the seat remains stubbornly motionless. "Oh, for fuck's sake, like this day hasn't already gone on for an eternity."

"Are you sure?" Steve leans over and suddenly Danny has a whole lot of Steve stretched out across his lap.

"Yes, I'm sure. Which one of us had the head trauma?" Danny asks, pressing himself against the back of the seat as Steve pokes his chest with an elbow. "Whoa, watch it." He rests a hand on Steve's waist, for lack of any better place to put it.

Steve twists around. "Sorry. I could have sworn there was another lever in front."

"Well there's not," Danny says stupidly. Steve is way too close and Danny can smell him, he smells sweat and dirt and gunpowder and that really shouldn't be such a turn on.

"So it's just this lever, and it's stuck?" With one hand on Danny's thigh, Steve reaches for the lever on down the left side, shifting so that he's even closer to Danny, his hip resting on the edge of Danny's seat.

Danny has a perfect view of tense arm muscles and the long line of Steve's shoulder and the v-neck of his teeshirt which exposes Steve's collarbone very nicely. "Just climb in my lap, why don't you."

Steve looks up, surprised. "I think I already have," he says. He's laughing now, his face only inches from Danny's and Danny can't help but grin. The situation is pretty ridiculous.

"I feel like we're playing some crazy game of Twister." Danny's hand is still on Steve's waist, and when Steve laughs again, he can feel Steve's body shake.

"I used to love that game," Steve says, and he seems delighted by the memory.

"Yeah. It was pretty cool."

Steve eases closer, leaning toward Danny. He's still smiling as he shifts his weight to rest a hand on the back of the seat, just over Danny's shoulder.

"I don't know, what do you think we should be doing here?" Steve's voice is warm and low, and the smile is fading from his lips but his eyes are still crinkled at the corners.

"I think--I think you got cracked in the head," Danny taps the side of Steve's head, "and you're a little confused now. But hey, I understand, I can easily be mistaken for a tall, leggy brunette."

"Danny, I know exactly who you are."

Steve is close enough to kiss, yet again. And that's it. Danny can't take it anymore.

He brushes his lips against Steve's, and Steve lets out a small sigh, pressing his lips to Danny's and fuck, it's is even better than Danny had imagined. Slow, sweet kisses that seem to go on forever, taking Danny's breath away, but when Danny slips a hand under Steve's shirt, the kisses get a little less sweet and a lot more urgent.

"Danny," Steve breaks off and nuzzles Danny's cheek as he moves closer. There's a thump as his arm hits the steering wheel. "Ow."